


I Know You're Out There

by DearLazerBunny



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 23:08:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17130452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearLazerBunny/pseuds/DearLazerBunny
Summary: For the wonderful @molmcb who requested a Poe fic based on the song I Know You’re Out There by Stephanie Mabey. Go check it out, it’s beautifully sweet :) hope you enjoy dear!





	I Know You're Out There

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Spousal death

“Have you tried writing in a journal?”

Your friend sits across from you in the mess hall, stirring something into her mug of coffee. You take another bite of your meal, then tilt your head, considering. “I think I kept one when I was younger, maybe? I can’t really remember.”

“You should take it back up,” she says matter of factly. ‘It can really help with… well. Everything.”

Everything. That’s an understatement. What little you’d managed to forget during your brief conversation with your friend settles back over you like a shroud. The events of the past few months weigh on your features and your heart more than you ever thought possible. You shrug. “Maybe I’ll give it a shot.”

Your friend checks her watch. “I’ve got to get to my shift. Are you going to be okay?” She’s looking at you with such sympathy it makes your eyes want to water, but no tears come. You’re all cried out.

“I’ll be fine. Go to work.” She pats your shoulder before departing, still sipping from her cup. You sigh. You’re still technically on leave, so you have nothing to do other than go back to your room.

Roaming the halls, you can almost see him walking next to you in that hideous orange flight suit, grin on his face, pulling your hand towards some new unknown adventure. It makes you smile, remembering him as he was: always looking for something new to explore, always grinning, always laughing. Laughter has been hard without him by your side to laugh with you.

As you unlock your door, your daughter Sara stirs from her nap on your bed. Big eyes blink up at you, and they make your heart swell like nothing else. “Hi, sweetheart. Have a good nap?”

She nods sleepily, then reaches her arms out for you to hold her, which you gratefully oblige to. You tuck her into your lap- she’s still small enough to fit perfectly under your chin- and rock her gently, more as a comfort to you than her. “I had a dream about daddy.”

“Did you?” You try not to let the worry show in your voice. “What kind of dream?”

“We were having a tea party!” She beams at you, one tooth missing, and you find yourself smiling back despite the grief weighing you down.

“That’s wonderful, honey. He did love tea parties with you.”

“I know,” she says simply, as only a seven year old can. “He told me in my dream.”

The innocence in her voice makes you want to break down sobbing. He was taken from her so soon. You’re of course forever grateful for the time you had, but… still. Too soon. You shake your head. You can’t think about this right now. “Would you like to color, sweetie? Mommy’s got some work she needs to do.”

Sara nods eagerly and you get her supplies from the desk drawer and spread them out for her. She. Takes to it in an instant, completely absorbed, giving you a little breathing room and space for a few tears to work their way down your cheek. You sit at the desk and hunt around for a notebook with clean sheets, then dig out a pen. Journaling, hm?

_Dear Caleb,_

_I miss you more than I know how to say. I don’t think Sara understands, not completely. More than likely she thinks you’re off on a long mission and will be back any day. How I wish that was the case. You’d be so proud to see her. She looks more and more like you every day…_

…

Over the next month or so, you write every time you begin to feel the void your husband left the day he didn’t come back from his mission. Every time you wish you could hear him laugh. Every time the bed feels empty without him. Your journal gets so full you buy another, then another. Your pen runs out of ink. And when you’re done with the most recent entry you tuck it back into the desk drawer, full of secrets and sadness and hope for a better day, until you’re ready for it again.

On a particularly bad day, when everyone and everything seems to remind you of him, you rush home wanting nothing more than to spill your heart out on paper. But when you open the door, the room is empty. “Sara?” You knock on the bathroom door, but it creaks open. Oh, god, she’s not here. The worst instantly races through your mind, until you see a scribbled note resting on the desk in crayon: went out to play mommy back soon.

You sigh in relief. You know exactly where she’ll be, and it’s probably the safest place you could hope to put her.

…

Poe Dameron is checking over his rig after a routine flight when he notices the little girl sitting in the corner of the airfield, blissfully unaware of those hustling around her. She’s got something in her hands, but he can’t quite make it out from here. So he wanders over, brushing oil from his hands, smile on his face as he crouches down to meet her. “Hey there. Whatcha doing?”

The girl shields her eyes with her hand to block against the noonday sun. “Makin’ paper airplanes,” she says. She holds out a sheet of notebook paper. “Wanna make one?”

Poe looks around. He doesn’t have anywhere to be for ten minutes or so. So he sits down next to her and accepts the paper, placing it on the blacktop in front of him and beginning to crease it into a familiar shape. The girl suddenly looks at him. “I know you! You’re one of daddy’s friends!”

Daddy’s…? It hits him, all at once. Sara. Caleb’s kid. The man he didn’t bring back from a mission only four months ago. His heart cringes when he realizes he’s let it slip his mind so quickly. The man had a family for god’s sake. “I was. Am,” he corrects, for her sake. “Your daddy is a great man, Sara. I’m lucky to have him on my squad.”

She beams at him, and he feels a little bad for lying, but what else can he do? The guilt is eating him alive already. So he focuses on the little airplane he’s crafting- only to notice words written on the other side of the page. He flips it over.

_Caleb,  
It’s your birthday today. You would have been twenty six, I think? I can’t believe we’ve already lost count. One of your friends stopped by with a cake and we cut it together, toasted you-_

Poe puts down the paper. This is obviously something personal; something he wasn’t meant to read. Addressed to Caleb? “Sara, where’d you get this paper?”

Humming, and engrossed with her own project, she slides him a notebook she found in her mother’s desk drawer when she was scrounging for materials. Poe quickly flips through it:

_Caleb,  
Sara had a nightmare today-_

_Caleb,  
Sometimes I think I can hear you laughing just out of my reach_

_Caleb,  
I miss you_

_Caleb-_

Y/N, he instantly realizes. Caleb’s wife. This must have been her journal. With horror, he looks at the stack of paper airplanes sitting next to her daughter, some already launched out into the airfield with people walking over them, thankfully ignoring them as nothing. Launching out of his seat, he goes and collects every one, trying to smooth them out as best he can before returning them to the notebook. “Sara, I think you’re going to have to give these back. Here-“ he flips to the back of the notebook, where there are thankfully some blank pages, and hands them to her. “Use these. Can I trade you for the other ones?”

She agrees and they swap. His own plane abandoned, Poe focuses on uncreasing each letter and putting them back in the journal.

“Sara? Sara!”

“Mommy! Look what I made!” She waves a paper airplane high in her hand, and at first you smile, but that drains from your face when you see your notebook sitting next to her.

“That’s great, sweetheart,” you say, frantically trying to figure out if any of the letters had fallen into the wrong hands.

“Hey, um, Y/N.” Poe waves at you from where he’s sitting, and when you approach him, he holds out your journal for you. “They should all be there. Sara got ahold of them, but I picked them all up I think-”

“Oh my god.” You rush over. “Thank you so much, Poe.”

He nods, grateful he remembered your name when you clearly remembered his. Then again, how could you forget? For all you knew he was the man responsible for your husband’s death. “I, um-” he swallows. “I couldn’t help but read a bit of… well.”

You duck your head, embarrassed. “Just something I’ve been doing in my spare time. It…. helps. With everything.”

Poe nods. “I keep one too. It does help.” He glances at Sara, but she’s too bust to notice the two of you talking. “I think about Caleb a lot,”” he says, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You shake your head. “Leia gave me the field report, Poe. There was nothing you could have done.” You look at him. “You said you keep one, too?”

“Yeah. I have ever since I started flying. Keeps my head on when it feels like it’s going to fly off.”

You laugh a little. “Maybe we could sit down sometime and, talk about things?”

“Of course,” Poe says. “Anything you need.”

…

One year later, you’re on the surface of a little planet you never bothered to learn the name of. This is the planet where Caleb went down. Most of it is covered in water, but you and Poe stand on a green patch right at the surf’s edge. You take a deep breath. It’s a peaceful place, at least. At least he can rest here.

“You ready?” Poe breaks you out of your thoughts, and you nod. He hands you a paper airplane, folded lovingly by Sara, containing one of the many letters you’d addressed to Caleb. In one quick movement, you send it sailing out over the blue, until it lands in the water with a grateful glide.

He hands you another, and you throw it. Poe throws a couple. You throw ten more. Slowly, you empty your mind and your heart of the journals you’ve written, feeling lighter and lighter with each plane you through.

It isn’t forgetting Caleb, or even pushing him to the past. It’s a remembrance of him. And it’s letting him know that you are okay. You are moving on, slowly and surely, as painful as it might be.

When both your hands are empty, Poe takes one of yours and laces his fingers through it, bringing it up to his lips to press a soft kiss to the back of your palm. In tandem, you both turn from the sea, your footsteps a little lighter than when you landed 


End file.
